


Written in Red Ink

by Neyiea



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch Black (AKA the 'Detention King') is a high school English teacher who's beginning to feel very apathetic about his job. Sanderson Mansnoozie is the school's well liked guidance counsellor who just wants to be friends... At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pitch’s eyes fluttered open at 6:14 AM on Monday morning and, as with every Monday during the school year, he glared at the ceiling and wished it would cave in on him so he could have an excuse to not to go into work. One minute later his alarm clock began chirping and he turned his dark stare to the bedside table.

He always woke up before his alarm nowadays, sometimes he wondered why he even bothered setting it.

He pried himself out of bed and began his weekday routine: picking out his suit for the day, showering, dressing and flipping through the morning paper while eating breakfast.

He was going to have his grade elevens start Othello today, while his grade twelves would begin To Kill A Mockingbird. Both were personal favourite of his and he hoped adding them into his curriculum wouldn’t ruin them for him.

He sighed and sipped at his coffee, glancing around his sparsely decorate apartment without feeling.

Five years ago he’d started teaching and moved into the closest apartment he could find, so full of optimism and hope about his job and life in general. It was so rare these days for teachers to find jobs right out of university, usually they spent years having to be substitutes, if they managed that, waiting for other teachers to retire and hoping they’d made good impressions, and he was going to make the best of his situation. He was going to make a change in teen’s lives, get them interested in reading, make it so they would want to devour information of all types.

Apparently he’d forgotten what most teens were like.

Oh certainly, the grade twelves under his tutelage were generally well behaved and hard working, trying to get the best possible grades before they applied to college, but there were always troublemakers scattered about. And oh, the eleventh graders, especially the ones this year, it was amazing he didn’t hand out detentions every day.

Just most days.

The ‘Detention King’ they called him, staring at him with fear and awe whenever he walked down the hall.

He snorted and set his empty mug aside. It was just after seven, around time for him to leave. He gathered up his things and exited his apartment, locking the door behind him just as his next door neighbour entered the hallway, announcing his presence with a loud yawn.

“Good morning Jack.”

“Hm?” Jack rubbed at his eyes tiredly and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Mornin’ Pitch.”

“I thought you didn’t have class until nine on Mondays this year.” They began walking to the elevators, Pitch reaching out to hit the down button.

“I don’t. My professor decided to start off the year with a group project that’s due next week and our team lead wanted to meet us before class today.” He stretched his arms above his head and blinked rapidly, becoming more awake by the second. “Did you want a ride? Your school’s on the way to the college.”

The elevator door dinged open and they stepped inside.

“I’ve seen the way you drive that deathtrap you call a car Jack, suffice to say I will not be setting a foot inside it anytime in the near future.” Pitch snarked and Jack snorted.

“I’ll have you know that I drive in a perfectly safe manner.”

“I notice you didn’t object to the deathtrap comment.”

“All cars are deathtraps, you just need to find ways to work around that.”

The doors opened and they stepped out.

“Try not to terrorize too many kids today.” Jack called over his shoulder as he walked towards the parking lot.

Pitch rolled his eyes. “Try not to fall asleep in class,” he countered, heading out the front door.

When Jack had first moved in, over a year ago now, Pitch had been worried he’d be a disruptive neighbour. Thankfully Jack had been raised with a miraculous thing called manners and, once he’d finished unpacking, he’d come around to introduce himself and offer a plate of his mother’s homemade shortbread cookies. Pitch, unable to resist baked goods, had invited him in for tea and they’d been thick as thieves ever since.

They spent most of their Friday nights together, sprawled out in the living room of either apartment, sassing and snarking at each other as they each attempted to finish their workload for the weekend.

He wouldn’t admit it unless under pain of death, but his life seemed a lot better now that Jack was in it. Maybe he’d been lonely.

Sometimes he wondered how weird it would seem to outsiders, that he was better friends with someone nearly a decade younger than himself than he was with any of his colleagues. Then he remembered how little he cared for other people’s opinions.

He reached the school at 7:40, still an hour before classes started, but he liked coming in early; roaming the hallways alone, everything silent except for the faint echo of his footfalls against the linoleum. 

He dropped most of his things off at the small office he shared with the English and Drama teachers before making his way to his classroom. When he didn't have any papers to mark he liked to read before his day began, depending on his mood it could be anything from science fiction to biographies.

Since it was still early in the school year and he wasn’t as full of despair as he would be when they neared Christmas break, he had brought along a Sherlock Holmes collection.

He cracked open the book, eyes scanning over the familiar and well loved stories. He was almost finished the Red Headed League when a knock interrupted him.

Pitch immediately tensed, he _hated_ when people distracted him from his books, and he looked up to glare at whoever would dare obstruct his reading.

Sanderson Mansnoozie, the school’s beloved, perfect guidance counsellor smiled brightly at him. What was he even doing here at eight in the morning? It wasn’t as if he had lesson plans to look over, and he couldn’t start his job until there were actually students in the school.

“Good morning Mr. Black. I was just about to grab some coffee from the teacher’s lounge, want to come with?”

“No,” Pitch somehow managed not to growl from behind his desk, restraining the urge to get up and slam the door in the other man’s face.

“Oh.” Sanderson’s face fell, as if he actually expected Pitch would drop his novel and tag along to get a cup of swill disguised as coffee, “enjoy your book,” he said as he slipped away.

What a strange man. Pitch shook his head and refocussed on the pages in front of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Sandy walked towards the teacher’s lounge, feet shuffling. He’d come in early today to reorganize his office and had been taking a bit of a break to stretch his legs when he’d spotted one of the only teachers he rarely talked to. Pitch had seemed a lot less harsh with his eyes eagerly running down the pages of a book, although that had quickly changed as soon as Sandy had knocked on the doorframe.

He sighed and pushed the door to the lounge open before setting up the coffeemaker.

He’d been working at the school for over a year now. Initially some of the teachers had been a bit wary of him, thinking that since he came from a well off family he was treating his job as some sort of game. He’d quickly proven them wrong and had become a trustworthy figure to the students and good friends with most, if not all, of the staff.

All except Pitch Black, who, as far as he could tell, wasn’t really friends with anybody.

Although it was probably hard to make friends when almost half of your colleagues called you ‘Detention King’ behind your back and gossiped about your teaching methods. It wasn’t as if they truly disliked him, but a lot of them had given up on him after they weren’t able to crack through his icy exterior.

Pitch was a good teacher, sure he was unsociable and scared the students into doing their best with tales of reality instead of encouraging them in a more conventional way, but it was easy to see that he genuinely wanted his students to enjoy learning. He deserved at least one person to call friend while at work. Unfortunately it was hard to make friends when you ate lunch alone, never went to any sports matches, weren’t the head of any extracurricular groups and refused to go to the staff’s monthly night out. Sandy had been inviting him to events since last December in an attempt to get to know him better, all for nought.

Well, he was just going to have to try harder this year.

The door opened and Toothiana skipped in, the grade 10 geography and gym teacher as mysteriously full of energy as always.

“Hey Sandy, oh, you’ve got the coffee brewing already? Excellent!” Tooth grabbed the purple mug she favoured, shifting it from one hand to the other as she waited for the pot to fill. “What are you doing in so early today?”

“I wanted to reorganize my office a little and clear out all the old time tables that have been left lying around.” Sandy grabbed the coffee pot and poured some into Tooth’s mug before filling up his own. “You know how the beginning of the semester is; suddenly one of their courses seems like the most terrible decision they’ve ever made and their future depends on switching it to something else.” He laughed softly. “I remember in grade eleven I decided to take another history course instead of chemistry. I thought it would be the end of the world.”

Tooth grinned from behind her mug. “I’m very happy that the world didn’t end for you.”

“That makes two of us.” Sandy replied cheerfully, but his expression quickly sobered. “Hey Tooth.”

“Yes?”

“What do you think of Mr. Black?”

Tooth nearly sputtered out her coffee. “Mr. Black? Well, he’s sort of intimidating for one thing. He was a lot less intense when he started here five years ago, but he didn’t quite fit in and some of the older teachers thought his teaching methods were too strict, and then after a while he just started shutting people out. He even stopped coming out every month.” She sipped at her coffee, eyes unfocused as she contemplated how to word the rest of her answer.

“I think he’s probably a little lonely, but he doesn’t want to do anything about it. Maybe he just doesn’t think co-workers make good friends.”

Sandy dragged his fingers along the handle of his cup, nodding slowly. “That sounds about right, he just likes to hide it behind all those exasperated eye rolls.”

Tooth snorted just as E. Aster Bunnymund, art teacher extraordinaire, strolled in. 

“Wow Tooth, that was the most charming noise I’ve ever heard a lady make.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I’m quite charming.”

Sandy smiled at his friend’s bantering, or was it flirting, and checked his watch. 8:20, time to head over to the guidance office. 

“I’ll see you two later,” he called as he moved to leave the room.

“You’d better believe it!” Tooth yelled back, even more energetic than usual now that there was caffeine in her system.

Sandy made his way to his office, there would be a bit of a lull now that deadline for students to switch classes was over and it would still be a while until most grade twelve students applied to college and would need to request copies of their transcripts. There were always a handful that were a little more prepared, so he’d be sure to have some college and university pamphlets ready.

The morning passed slowly with only a few students coming into his office but soon enough it was time for his lunch break.  
Usually he ate with Tooth, Aster and Nicholas or, if he had work to do, alone in his office. Today he’d try something different.

He headed over to Pitch’s classroom and found it empty, so he made his way towards the communal English/Drama office and knocked on the door.

It swung open and Mrs. Miller, the grade nine English teacher, blinked at him curiously.

“Mr. Mansnoozie, what brings you here?”

“I was hoping to find Mr. Black.”

Mrs. Miller visibly recoiled at the name and Sandy frowned. Pitch was a little intense, yes, but he didn’t deserve that kind of reaction.

“Why would you want to find him?”

“I’d like to speak to him on behalf of one of the students.” The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue and he hated that he felt he couldn’t be honest, but the fib did it’s job and calmed her down.

“Oh, I see. Mr. Black only ever eats here during the colder month. He’s probably reading out by the bleachers.”

“Thank you.”

He headed outside towards the track and, low and behold, Pitch was sitting in the bleachers, flipping through the same book he’d had that morning.

Sandy climbed to the top and settled down beside him, deciding to keep silent until Pitch noticed him in the hope that he wouldn’t drive him into a sour mood like he had that morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Pitch tensed as someone sat down beside him and out of the corner of his eye he spotted _Sanderson_ of all people, making himself right at home.

He frowned and clutched his book tighter, half expecting Sandy to lean in close to read over his shoulder and he hated, _hated_ , when people did that.

So he grit his teeth and waited for whatever unpleasant social interaction that was bound to follow, but Sandy stayed silent beside him, calmly eating his lunch. He eventually relaxed.

The companionable silence was... Pleasant. 

The majority of the lunch hour went on without a word passed between them and Pitch had just finished The Speckled Band when Sandy coughed softly.

He slowly looked over and cocked an eyebrow at the other man.

"The monthly outing with the faculty is coming up this Friday."

"Ah, indeed." Pitch's concentration was slowly drifting back to the book in his hands.

"I was hoping you would come along this time."

Pitch's eyes snapped back to Sandy.

"Surely you jest."

"Not at all. I think you'd have a good time if you gave yourself the chance to."

"Look Mr. Mansnoozie-"

"Please, call me Sandy."

Pitch pulled a face. "... Sanderson, as much as I appreciate," he made a vague gesture, "whatever this is, I don't like hanging around with groups of people. I didn't like it five years ago, I won't like it now." He snapped his book shut and stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must be heading back to my classroom."

Pitch quickly made his way back indoors, trying to push the strange encounter aside so he could focus on more important matters.

Him, hanging out with his co-workers on a Friday night? Preposterous. 

He paused just outside his classroom, eyes going wide at the sight of the man waiting for him.

"Principal Lunar, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

The principal smiled fondly. "Ah, Mr. Black, I heard that you would be joining us this Friday."

Pitch barely held back a startled gasp, _how did he even-_

"I'm so glad that you've finally decided to start tagging along again, I was beginning to think I'd have to order you to." He patted Pitch on the back. "I'm glad I didn't have to resort to that." He chuckled to himself and left Pitch standing stock-still in the hallway.

What?

No really, what?

He complained about his ordeal to Jack later that night in the confines of his apartment while he marked essays, only to have it backfire on him as Jack seemed to find the entire situation hilarious.

"So you actually have to go now? Oh man, I would pay to see how awkward you're going to act. Do you think I could tag along?"

"Doubtful." Pitch frowned into his tea. "And what makes you think I'll be awkward?"

Jack leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table despite knowing that it was one of Pitch's pet peeves.

"Pitch, you're terrible with crowds and in social situations. Sometimes I wonder why you became a teacher."

Pitch sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I wonder too. Occasionally I get a student who makes me feel like what I do is worthwhile, but teenagers are just... Teenagers." His face twisted, as if the very word left a bad taste in his mouth, and he stared down at his pile of essays with disdain. "Maybe I would work better with younger children."

Jack didn't bother trying to conceal his bewilderment. "How young are we talking here? Because I think that you could give nightmares to most kids under the age of eleven."

"Your younger sister likes me," Pitch grumbled, clicking his red marking pen idly as he skimmed over the next paper for any obvious spelling and grammar mistakes.

"My sister is my sister, obviously she shares my good taste. What did you expect?"

"True enough." All of Jack's family were oddly fond of him. 

_Was it really so hard to remember the difference between their and they're?_ Pitch began circling the homonyms with a frown.

"And this Sanderson guy, isn't he the Mr. Perfect you always whine about?"

Pitch pried his eyes away from the paper and scoffed. "Oh please, I did not whine about him, and I haven't brought him up since last December."

"You totally whined! I remember you got super drunk one night when I was studying for my finals and kept babbling about how life was really unfair."

"Lies. I remember none of this."

"I'm totally not surprised by that. You probably don't even remember how I thanklessly nursed you back to health the day after like the selfless angel I am."

Pitch snorted. "Angel my foot. You just checked to make sure I hadn't died and then helped yourself to my coffee, didn't you?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny." Jack smirked, which was really as good as an answer anyway.

Pitch groaned and looked back down at his marking, making a quick note to himself that he should go over the differences between they're, there and their with his grade elevens because this was just ridiculous. It was too early in the school year for him to be feeling this much despair. "Maybe I'll fake sick on Friday, I'm certainly pale enough."

"Aw, you could call me to pick you up from school, you can't walk home when you're ill."

Pitch gave Jack a dark look. "I hate you."

"You adore me."

"Brat."

"Creep."

They paused and grinned at each other.

"I suppose we'll have to switch up our usual Friday routine, just this once."

"How will I survive?" Jack questioned dryly.

"Sheer force of will, I suspect." Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he originally thought. He dealt with Jack on a near daily basis, surely if he could handle _him_ he could handle the handful of co-workers that would be coming out. 

Hopefully.


	4. Chapter 4

"I heard through the grape vine that you'd be coming out with us tonight," Sandy started, valiantly trying to keep a straight face when Pitch jerked back from his desk and dropped his red marking pen in surprise.

He knew he could be very quiet and 'unintentionally' sneaky sometimes, but Pitch seemed to startle easily. 

"Mr. Mansnoozie, what are you-"

"I told you before, you can call me Sandy. Everyone does, even the students."

Pitch looked a bit miffed at being interrupted, but started again. "Sanderson, what are you doing in my classroom at," he quickly checked the clock, "seven fifty three in the morning?"

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that you don't have a car, so I figured I'd offer you a ride for tonight."

Pitch shuffled the papers on his desk. "I don't like cars, I'll walk."

"You're going to walk all the way to J.P Fitzpatrick's?" Sandy questioned incredulously and Pitch stared at him.

"J.P what?"

"Fitzpatrick's, you know, the pub."

"What pub?"

"The pub everyone goes to on a monthly basis." Sandy replied dryly, raising his eyebrows when Pitch looked personally affronted by this new information.

"When did they change it? Back in the day we used to go to Denny's. I don't want to go to a pub." He crossed his arms sullenly and began to, for lack of a better word, sulk.

Sandy unsuccessfully tried not to snicker as he leaned over Pitch's desk. "So you're a fan of pancakes then?"

"I'm a fan of any breakfast food I don't have to cook myself." Pitch snarked back and Sandy grinned at him.

"A bit lazy in the morning, are we?"

"Lazy people don't come into work early everyday."

"Just make some for yourself then, if you've got the time."

"No. Someone else has to make it for me, that's the whole point. Have you not been paying attention?" Pitch asked with a roll of his eyes.

This was probably the longest conversation they'd ever had, and it was about _breakfast_. This was so weird. It was unexpectedly fun, though.

"You sure are talkative this morning."

"Don't get used to it Sanderson-"

"Sandy." He interrupted, and the annoyed look Pitch sent his way lacked some of the heat it usually would have.

"This is bantering. I'm good at bantering, normal conversations not so much."

"Wait, are you saying that if I'd started sassy conversations with you last year instead of just saying hello in the hall and inviting you out, you'd have gone along with it?"

"And we probably would be the best of friends by now, braiding each other's hair and everything."

Sandy let out a pleased laugh.

"Our hair's a bit short for that, maybe we'll just clip it back."

Pitch smiled, then seemed to realize what he was doing and schooled himself into a neutral expression.

Sandy mentally rolled his eyes. It was no use pretending to be indifferent now, he was totally going to go out of his way to provoke sassy responses out of Pitch from now on.

"So, getting back to our original conversation, do you want a ride for tonight?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On the sort of track record you have. Have you been in any accidents, do you pay attention to the road, how likely is my death if I go with you?"

Sandy leaned forward, smirking. "You'll get answers to all of your questions and more after school. I'll come around to get you after the bell."

Pitch gives him an indignant look as he turns to leave, mentally chortling.

Maybe he'd buy Pitch a few drinks tonight, get him to loosen up a little. He seemed like the type who'd drink really slow, sipping at a glass of bourbon or scotch while reading a book, and he didn't come off as someone who'd gone through a party phase during university, so he probably wasn't used to having a lot of alcohol in his system at once.

Maybe he could goad Pitch into having shots.

Time passes by pretty slowly on his end, a handful of grade twelves coming in during their free periods for advice on how and where to apply, and throughout the day he finds himself wondering how hilarious Pitch would be if he were completely sloshed.

Maybe he'd angrily recite Shakespearian quotations at people, or maybe he was the type to person who got really giddy and talkative.

The end of the day could not come fast enough.

When the final bell rings he makes his way to Pitch's classroom against the tide of outgoing students and finds the teacher in the midst of a staring contest with one of his students.

He leans in the doorway and Pitch's eyes flick over to him before, with one of his infamous eye rolls, he turns his attention back to the student.

"As I am unable to stay after school to oversee your detention today I expect one hundred lines from you on Monday of 'I will not text in class'." Pitch hands over the cell phone he'd confiscated. "Be sure to number them so I can actually see you've written it down the proper amount."

"Yeah, sure thing." The student pockets his cell phone and looks pretty happy about having lines instead of an actual detention. "Have a good weekend Mr. Black!" He practically runs out of the classroom and Sandy watches him go in amusement.

Pitch sighs and gathers up his things. "I don't suppose you'd let me make a run for it?"

"Feel free to try, but I am blocking your only exit so I doubt you'll have any luck." He strolls forward and gently nudges the taller man. "Don't be so pessimistic, it'll be fun."

"I cannot help but believe that you and I have very different definitions of that word." Pitch comments dryly, but he follows obediently after Sandy as they make their way towards the parking lot.

"You worry too much. I don't think a lot of us could make it out tonight, so there's maybe just a dozen of us going. That's not too bad, right?"

Pitch sighs and mutters something more than likely unpleasant under his breath. Sandy wishes it had been loud enough for him to hear. Pitch is all sharp wit and dry humour, he imagines a completely uninhibited Pitch would be awesome to banter with.

He is definitely getting Pitch at least tipsy tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

"It's so... Yellow."

Sandy shot Pitch a dry look. "I like yellow."

Pitch stared at the volkswagen beetle dubiously, as if the colour somehow had personally offended him. "And it's so very... Compact."

"Well, I don't need as much leg room as you." Sandy gestured between them, as if their height different wasn't obvious enough. "Besides, you shouldn't feel too cramped in the front. Maybe you'll even be able to move your seat all the way back."

"Why wouldn't I be able to?"

Sandy held out his keys and let them jingle. "I am one of this month's designated drivers."

Pitch furrowed his eyebrows. "You mean people actually drink alcohol during these things?"

"Yeah. No one gets roaringly drunk or anything, but some people like to let loose at the end of the month and have a pint or glass of wine, you know?"

Judging by the look on Pitch's face he did not know. He looked about ready to unleash one or two scathing comments when a cheery voice from behind startled him enough that he actually leapt aside.

"You guys all set to go?" Toothiana gave Pitch a wide smile which he awkwardly attempted to return.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Great!" She grabbed onto Aster's arm and shoved him into the back seat on the driver's side where he'd get a little more leg room.

"Oi! Can ya not be more delicate?"

"I'm plenty delicate. Honestly, what a thing to ask."

The rest of them took their places inside and the ride was filled with Tooth happily chattering about how the training for the girl's basketball team was going. Sandy briefly let his eyes slip over to Pitch, who was gazing out the passenger window blankly. Clearly getting him involved in conversations was going to actually take effort. 

"So Mr. Black, do you think you'll be able to make it to the game next week?"

Pitch blinked, eyes clearing, and slowly turned away from the window to stare at him while Tooth clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Oh, please say you'll come! Not many people usually show up for the first game so it'd be great if you could come out to show your support."

"I don't really know much about basketball. I'd probably not follow along very well."

"You could sit down near me on the bench," Aster made a soft, pained noise and Tooth shot him a warning look, "then if you had any questions I'd be more than happy to answer them for you."

Pitch's eyes slowly took in Tooth's apparent glee, Aster's mild irritation and Sandy's serene smile.

"I guess I could try to make it?"

"Excellent! Oh, we're here!" Tooth all but leapt out once the car stopped moving and herded them inside as though they were students on a field trip, guiding them to the table where the other members of the staff were already seated. Pitch ended up sitting between Sandy and Nicholas, the shop and wood-working teacher, and looked distinctly uncomfortable about his close confines.

Sandy probably should have expected this. Pitch gives Nicholas strained smiles whenever the larger man talks to him and in general looks like he'd much rather be grading papers or overseeing a detention. He's beginning to wonder if Pitch would feel a little more comfortable if he was sitting at the end of the table, so he wasn't trapped between two people, and is thinking of offering his seat when Pitch's phone beeps.

Pitch digs the phone out of his pocket, eyes skimming over the text he'd received. His eyebrows steadily raise and his lips purse together. He sends a quick answer back and moves to put it away when his phone beeps again. He stares at the screen in apparent exasperation before the beginnings of a small, genuine smile start tugging the corners of his mouth up.

Sandy tries not to stare too obviously, but it's really difficult not to. He's seen Pitch smirk and grin snidely and even look somewhat content, but he's never seen him quite like this, not even when Pitch had smiled after their bantering. If he looked this nice all the time maybe students would stop being so afraid of him.

His phone beeps one final time and his smile takes a devious tilt. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and forces himself to relax. When he opens his eyes again all of his nervous tension seems to have disappeared. 

The night progresses smoothly after that. Pitch participates in small talk and nods along pleasantly when Tooth starts explaining the rules of basketball to him. He declines Sandy's offer to buy him a drink, "trust me, I'm terrible with alcohol," but all in all appears to have a good time. He even has one of the waitresses take a picture of their whole group with his phone, "to commemorate this once in a blue moon occasion," and hardly even struggles when North pulls him into a bone-crushing hug before everyone goes their separate ways.

They all pile back in Sandy's car and Pitch is the first one to be dropped off, bidding them a good night before he steps out. Almost as soon as the car door shuts Tooth is leaning forward, smiling from ear to ear.

"That was unexpected, huh?"

"Ya, for a while there I thought Black'd just pull out a book an' forget all 'bout everyone else."

Sandy nods absentmindedly, thinking about the texts Pitch had received prior to his change of attitude. What could they have said to make him relax, and who were they from?

Who was able to make Pitch smile like that?

x-x-x

_To: Pitch  
From: Jack_

_So, on a scale of 1 to 10 how awkward are you feeling right now?_

_To: Jack  
From: Pitch_

_I think you know me well enough to make an educated guess._

_To: Pitch  
From: Jack_

_Lighten up dude. You deal with me on a daily basis, and I've been told by multiple reliable sources that no one is as bad as me. You'll be fine._

_To: Pitch  
From: Jack_

_If you manage to last the whole outing without strangling anybody I'll help you with your marking for a week. Get me photos though, so I know you're not secretly hiding out in your office. :P_


	6. Chapter 6

"Wow, you actually hung out with people from work and you didn't burst into flame or anything." Jack let his eyes flick up from the phone long enough to give Pitch a wry smile. "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm so glad," Pitch muttered sarcastically as he held out his hand, "now give it back, you're probably smudging the screen."

"Give me a sec, I'm basking in the moment." Jack held the phone close to his chest. "And I'm not smudging the screen! I do wash my hands, you know."

"Fine, you can hold onto it for another minute, but then we've got to start marking."

Jack groaned dramatically.

"It's your own fault for offering in the first place." Pitch rubbed his hands together in exaggerated anticipation. "Oh, I'm going to make you mark the homonym pop quizzes so that I can save myself the despair of seeing words mixed up."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack waved a hand dismissively. "Hey, the dude sitting beside you in the picture is the Sanderson guy, right?"

"Yes, how did you figure that out?"

"Uh, you've drunkenly rambled about him, remember? We had this conversation not even a full week ago, and he's the only blond dude at the table, it was a very easy process of elimination." Jack grinned down at the screen. "Look at you guys, so precious."

"Alright, minute's up." Pitch snatched his phone back and smirked when Jack made a belated attempt to grab it back. "Now let's get to work, a teacher's marking is never done."

x-x-x

Monday dawned annoyingly early as usual, but instead of going through his usual routine of wishing his ceiling would cave in on him and waiting for his alarm to go off before he dragged himself out of bed, Pitch got up and stretched, shutting off his alarm before it had the chance to ring.

A week, a whole week of help with his marking. He could finalize future lesson plans, write up new quizzes, plan bonus assignments, all while Jack went through the tedious task of picking out all the obvious spelling and grammar mistakes. Life was good. He felt... Cheery, very unlike himself.

Maybe he should bribe Jack into helping him with his marking more often.

He was in such a good mood that the usual sharp annoyance he felt when someone interrupted his reading was hardly there. He tore his eyes away from his Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos and managed to aim a somewhat pleasant smile at the one who'd knocked on the doorframe to his classroom.

Sandy paused in surprise before returning the smile tenfold. "You seem to be in a very good mood today."

"Guilty as charged." Pitch marked his place and set the book aside, assuming the other man would wander in for a chat. Sandy did as expected, entering the room and dragging a chair forward to sit opposite of Pitch at his desk.

"What brought this good mood about?"

"Oh, nothing in particular." It would definitely be for the best if he kept it to himself.

Sandy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and cupping his face in his hands. "Did you have a good time on Friday? You looked a little overwhelmed before you got those texts."

"Oh yes, it was definitely not a complete waste of an evening."

Sandy snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's good to know. So you'll be coming out next month too, right?"

"No."

He let his arms drop across the table. "What? Why not?"

Because there was no point in going. Because he had better uses for his time. Because Jack wasn't going to offer to help him with marking for the same thing. Because the only reason he'd gone in the first place was due to being all but ordered to go by Principal Lunar.

"Because I'm not good with large groups of people."

Sandy slumped forward. "But it looked like you were handling everything fine."

"I am a master of deception." Pitch responded dryly.

"You're still coming to the basketball game though, right?"

Drat, he'd forgotten about that. "I'll see what I can do, but-"

"No buts, you're coming. No detentions will be handed out this Friday, you can just give them lines to do."

"But Fridays are the best days to give out detentions!" Pitch protested vehemently. "Nothing makes teenagers regret the things they've done wrong like forcing them to miss out on precious minutes of their weekend freedom. Most of them don't even bother getting a start on their homework, they just stare at the clock in despair like that will somehow make time pass by faster. Friday detentions are the ultimate punishment."

"Oh my God." Sandy tried to hide his bemused smile behind his hands. "You are so weird. How are you even a real person?"

"Magic," Pitch replied, completely straight faced.

"Okay, magic it is. But seriously, you should come to the game on Friday. You'd be surprised how fun these things can be. Also Tooth gets super excited about everything so it's pretty interesting to sit near her on the bench. She likes giving out hugs whenever one of 'her girls' gets a point."

"Ah, which explains why a certain someone was so sore about her inviting me to sit with her."

Sandy chuckled. "Yeah, don't take him too seriously, he and Tooth have been sort of-"

"Circling around each other for the better part of a year." Pitch scoffed at the other man's surprise. "Just because I don't talk to people doesn't mean I'm _blind._ " He rolled his eyes.

"Well at least you know what you'll be in for." Sandy leant away from the desk, crossing his arms and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. Pitch slowly rose his eyebrows in the ensuing silence.

"Thinking deep thoughts are we?"

"You know, when you're not good at something usually it's for the better to practice."

"And you are referring to what, exactly?"

"Socializing." Sandy made a vague gesture to the desks behind him. "I get that teaching a class of twenty-plus students is a bit different from spending time with a group of people in a more relaxed setting, but I'm sure you could do it, and be comfortable with it, if you tried."

Pitch frowned, folded his hands together and gave Sandy a distinctly unimpressed look.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm being serious. How about we go out for coffee sometime with Tooth, Nick and Aster? That's a relatively small group, we can work our way up."

"The only thing that will accomplish is the four of you talking while I stare down at my drink and wish I were somewhere else."

"We'll go just you and me then, how about that?"

Pitch sighed dramatically. "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

"Nope."

"Fine, fine, but I get to pick where we go, and we'd have to do it during the weekend."

"How does Saturday around noon sound?"

"Not completely terrible."

"I'll take that as a resounding yes then." Sandy grinned brightly. "I'll see you around Mr. Black."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before muttering, "Pitch."

"Hmm?"

"Honestly Sanderson, if I hear you call me Mr. Black one more time I'm going back to calling you _Mansnoozie._ "

He wouldn't have thought it was possible, but Sandy's smile brightened. "Pitch it is." He made his way out of the classroom, gleefully calling over his shoulder, "and it's Sandy, remember?"

Pitch pursed his lips in an attempt to repress his smile and turned back to his book.


	7. Chapter 7

Sports aren't exactly Pitch's thing, never have been, never will be. Basketball shouldn't be too hard to follow along with and he does still remember some of the rules that Tooth went over, but that doesn't change the fact that he's going to be a little out of his element. As interesting as it would be to sit up by Tooth and watch Aster slowly lose his mind he's more the type to sit away from the hustle and bustle. He could probably persuade Sanderson to sit back with him, but where Sandy went Nick would probably follow, and Pitch didn't want to risk it in case Nick liked giving out hugs for every point earned as well. He didn't think his back could handle it.

So those options were out, but he didn't want to alone and leave himself to boredom. Looks like it was time for a different solution.

"So Jack," he begins softly and Jack slowly lifts his head up and frowns at him. Clearly he'd had no idea how much marking a teacher actually did when he'd entered into their agreement.

"Whatever you're about to ask, the answer is no."

"Calm yourself, I was only going to ask if you had any plans for tomorrow."

Jack's frown deepens. "You mean other than our usual routine of finishing all our work in one go? No." He huffs and taps his pen against the table in aggravation.

"Ah," Pitch turns his attention back to his worksheets and says no more. Jack is a curious sort, he can't stand having information withheld from him no matter how trivial it may be. He sits and waits patiently, carefully scrawling out bright red questions and comments while Jack gnaws on his pen and stares relentlessly before sighing.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I'm just going to be a little tied up at a basketball and won't be able to make it home at my usual time, so I was wondering if you'd like to drop by the school before we both head home. You could stay and watch the game with me."

"My classes don't end until four on Fridays so I probably would only make the last half, if that. Not to mention that having a strange college guy hanging around to watch high school girls sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Oh don't worry about that, you're baby faced enough that you could still pass for a high schooler." If looks could kill Pitch would be six feet under right now. "Besides, you'll be sitting next to me and I won't let anyone drag you away in handcuffs."

"How sweet," Jack remarks dryly before a strange, excited look crosses over his face, "hey, will all the people from your big night out be there?"

"I would assume so-"

"I'm in."

Pitch blinks slowly. He'd expected it would take a lot more effort, possibly threats of blackmail, to get Jack to agree.

"Good, thank you."

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine." Jack grins and Pitch can't help but feel as though he's missing something.

Oh well, those are thoughts for another day.

x-x-x

Sandy has to admit, he's half surprised that he doesn't have to force Pitch out of hiding and drag him to the gym. Instead he's already sitting up in the bleachers, albeit father back than necessary, and seems to be making an attempt to look interested in the upcoming proceedings.

"Planning on sitting all by your lonesome?" He calls from a couple rows down where he's sitting with Nick.

Pitch glances down at him and shrugs wordlessly before he turns his attention to his phone.

Which reminds him...

He hikes up several steps so that he's standing directly in front of Pitch and whips out his phone while the other man give him an incredulous look.

"What's your number?"

Pitch raises an eyebrow.

"So that I can call you tomorrow when I come to pick you up."

"If I tell you, are you going to end up sending me messages in the middle of the night?" Pitch drawls lazily.

"Only if it's important, like how comfortable my new bath robe is."

"I do live for details such as those," Pitch sighs before rattling off a set of numbers that Sandy quickly copies down into the New Contact slot. Then he sends a quick text with a smiley face.

"There, now you've got my number too. Did you want to come down and sit with me and Nick? We don't bite, hard."

"Oh, but I prefer it when the bites are hard." Pitch murmurs lowly before casting a careful look about to ensure that no underaged ears heard him, Sandy has to forcefully keep himself from leaning in closer and asking him to repeat what he just said. "Anyways, I'm waiting for a friend to meet up with me so you don't have to worry about me being a complete loner."

"Oh, who is it?"

"No one you'd know," he responds, which of course only makes Sandy more curious. But he doesn't push the issue and instead trudges back to his seat beside Nick who's pinning him with a fond, in not exasperated, look.

"What?"

"Oh, is nothing, just thinking about the beauty of friendship." He says with a too large smile.

"Right." Sandy turns his attention to the court where both sets of players have just finished their warm ups.

Once the game begins it's nearly impossible to look away, there's so much going on, so many blink-and-you-miss-it plays, but every once in a while he turns his head slightly to see Pitch.

Sitting alone.

It's only during the final quarter, not that he's been keeping track or anything, that someone slips up to take a seat besides the English teacher. They're young, possibly fresh out of high school, and Pitch somehow seems more comfortable as soon as they arrive. 

Sandy would have assumed, what with the obvious ease they feel around each other, that they were brothers. But that theory is quickly discarded due to the fact that they look nothing alike.

They do have very similar facial expressions though. Especially when it come to the haughty, faked arrogance that Sandy has seen the few times he and Pitch have bantered. Once they're done snarking greetings at each other they share a half smile.

This must be the person who sent those texts, it has to be.

"Sandy, you're not paying attention." Nick chides in soft amusement and Sandy turns his attention forward just as one of Tooth's girls land a three point shot, pretty much clinching the game.

Tooth's delighted yells echo through the gym as she forcefully tugs the closest person to her, Aster, into her arms. Sandy whoops and claps his hands loudly before glancing back.

Pitch and his mystery friend are both clapping, one a lot more enthusiastically than the other, when the younger man catches Sandy's eyes and grins. Sandy manages a weak smile back which slowly fades when he slings an arm around Pitch's shoulders and Pitch, instead of shrugging the arm off or glaring it into oblivion, just lets it happen. Then, of all things to do, the young man winks.

Sandy abruptly turns forward and resolves not to turn around for the rest of the game, a whole three minutes.

Just what was that all about?


	8. Chapter 8

The following day while Sandy is waiting in his car outside of Pitch's apartment, having just sent the former a message telling him he'd arrived, he couldn't help but brood over the events of the day prior. After the game Pitch had briefly gone up to Tooth to congratulate her and the girls on their victory and awkwardly return Tooth's elated hug before hightailing it out of there with his mystery companion.

It's not any of his business, but he feels awfully curious about who that young man was and why he and Pitch seemed to get on like a house on fire.

He spots movement out of the corner of his eye and smiles when he sees Pitch walk out. His expression falters when a certain someone follows out after him and waves goodbye before taking off in another direction. His hands tighten minutely on the steering wheel.

Had they spend the night together? No, that couldn't possibly be the case, he was wearing different clothes. But what if he had extra sets of clothes at Pitch's place? He didn't really seem like Pitch's type though, not that Sandy knew what his type was, but he imagined they'd be a little older, at least his own age. They were probably just really good friends, or maybe Pitch was mentoring him or something.

Why did he even care?

Pitch opened the passenger side door and slipped inside, thankfully oblivious to the downward spiral Sandy's thoughts were taking.

"Good afternoon Sanderson."

"Hey," Sandy managed to choke out, a great feat considering he was currently questioning his sanity. If he didn't know any better he'd think that he was jealous, but that was preposterous.

"Are you feeling alright? You don't look very well."

"I'm fine, just thinking about stuff."

"I see." Pitch buckled up and gave directions to a coffee shop that was only a couple minutes away.

"So," Sandy began awkwardly as he pulled away from the kerb, and why was he even feeling awkward in the first place? He only wanted to ask a question, nothing embarrassing.

"So?" Pitch parroted back at him, obviously picking up on his mood and, judging by the upward tugging of his mouth, finding great amusement in it.

"Who was at the game with you yesterday? I don't think I've seen him around before."

"That was Jack, the dear, constant thorn in my side."

"Oh," Sandy chewed at his bottom lip, staring resolutely at the road, "so are you two..."

"Are we what?"

"Together."

Pitch turned to face him so fast it was a miracle he didn't get whiplash. 

"Together?" He repeated in horror. "No. Just, no. Why would you even _think_ that?"

Sandy desperately fought off the smile that was threatening to overtake his face. "I dunno, you seem to get along well and I saw him with you as you came out of your apartment building."

"He's my next door neighbour." Pitch slumped down in his seat, hands over his eyes. "I can't believe this. _Why?_ "

"This is what happens when you don't talk about yourself. People assume things."

"Prepare to sit through my entire life story then so that I can ensure this never happens again." Pitch slowly pulled his hands away from his face and shot Sandy a solemn look. "If Jack finds out about this he'll never shut up about it. I will never have peace again."

"Well you don't have to worry about me telling him anything." Sandy assured him with a wry smile as he pulled into the coffee shop's parking lot. "How about I buy you a latte as a peace offering and then we can forget about this entire conversation."

"Swap the latte for an iced mochaccino and we've got ourselves a deal." Pitch threw back as he stepped out of the car.

They made their way inside, Pitch scoping out a pair of comfortable looking arm chairs adjacent to each other while Sandy went to the counter and placed their order. A couple minutes later he made his way to Pitch's side and held out his iced drink with a wide smile.

"So, I believe there were promises made about a life story?"

"What happened to forgetting about the whole conversation?"

"Every part except for that is wiped from my mind. Besides, we're practicing small talk, life makes for excellent small talk. You don't even have to go into detail, just indulge me." He settled down in the other arm chair and pinned Pitch with an expectant look until the other man visibly caved.

"Alright, but just to warn you I'm incredibly boring." He took a fortifying sip of his drink and Sandy shifted a little closer.

"I was an only child, but I had a lot of cousins in the area while I was growing up. I was a great deal younger though and they were a rough and tumble bunch, so I didn't play with them very often. I didn't mind too much, I preferred the company of books anyways."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Sandy commented dryly.

"I haven't changed much, just gotten older."

"What made you want to be a teacher?"

"Books," Pitch shrugged, "I loved books, I wanted to help other people find books they loved, or just get them interested in reading in general. It all made sense back in the day. Sometimes I wonder if I should have become a librarian instead."

The thought _sexy librarian_ came to his mind unbidden and he felt his cheeks begin to heat up. Thankfully Pitch was too focussed on his drink to notice.

"I think that's enough about me for the time being. What about you?"

"Me?"

"There was a bunch of gossip going around about you when you first started, it would be interesting to separate truth from fiction, although now that I know you a little better it's a bit obvious."

"Do I even want to know what everyone used to say about me?"

"Probably not. There was nothing too bad, only a couple embarrassing theories here and there." Pitch finished off his drink. "Come on now Sanderson, if I have to make small talk you do too."

"I suppose you're right." Sandy leaned back and crossed his ankles. "I was an only child too, so my parents really liked to spoil me. I was always an extrovert and made friends easily, so I've always known I wanted a job that had me working with people. I think when I first decided to become a guidance counsellor my parents were disappointed that I was doing something 'simple', but they came around eventually."

"That was vague."

"Funny, I thought the same thing when you were speaking."

Pitch rolled his eyes and smiled crookedly. "What else is there to talk about?"

"Well," Sandy leaned forward and grinned, "I noticed you were reading H.P. Lovecraft the other day, let's talk about his works."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to start attempting to make my chapters a little longer. (Because I love you and everything you stand for GretchenSinister <3 )

Pitch is a lot more talkative when the subject matter is something he _actually_ cares about. He goes on about books the way some people speak about their children; in a soft, loving voice as streams of nothing but praise fall from his lips. Seeing him be this passionate about something is enough to make Sandy's heart sick a beat. Several times.

It's even better when Pitch mentions books and authors that Sandy is familiar with and he gets to take part in the conversation. Pitch is eager to hear his opinions and discuss his own feelings regarding their subjects. Sandy's never seen him during class, but if he's anything like this when he teaches he must be a sight to behold.

"I must confess that I do sometimes vastly enjoy books aimed at a much younger age demographic. Tell me, are you familiar with the work of Eoin Colfer?"

"I can't say that I am."

"Oh, you simply must read his Artemis Fowl series. I can lend it to you if you'd like." Pitch reels back slightly, as though he's surprised he offered. "Unless of course you're too busy, or you think it wouldn't be something you're interested in."

"I'm sure anything that comes so highly recommended from you is worth reading," Sandy replies warmly and he grins when Pitch blushes and fidgets, "you can tell me all about it in a minute, I'm going to grab myself another tea." They've actually been sitting and talking long enough that the barista behind the counter is giving them a 'buy more or get out' look. Sandy's never been so proud. "Did you want anything?"

"Oh, tea sounds good." Pitch reaches into his pocket to dig out his wallet and Sandy waves a hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about it, I've got it."

Pitch doesn't pause. "You already bought me something though."

"Think of it as a thank you in advance for letting me borrow your books."

"Well, when you put it like that..." Pitch taps at his chin in mock contemplation and Sandy playfully nudges his shoulder. "Very well, books for tea seems like a fair trade."

"Incredibly fair. What kind would you like?"

"Surprise me."

"How spontaneous." He makes his way back to the drink counter, feeling way more excited than he ought to over the fact that he's ordering for Pitch.

It wasn't meant to, but this outing is turning out to be a lot like a first date. He glances over his shoulder and eyes the way Pitch sprawls out on the arm chair. If Sandy's honest with himself, and he likes to make a point of being so, he thinks he wouldn't mind if it actually was.

He orders two teas, chamomile citrus for himself and chai for Pitch, and also picks up a pair of orange-cranberry scones. 

He presents the tea and scone to Pitch with a flourish and the dark haired man rolls his eyes fondly before taking the proffered cup, raising it up to his nose and inhaling. Sandy holds his breath and hopes he didn't pick out the one tea in the world he hates.

"Mmm, chai, excellent choice." He rises up from his seat to add milk to his drink and returns quickly, obviously impatient to start up their conversation again.

Pitch waxes on about Artemis Fowl, his absolute favourite young genius, and about a whole slew of magical things that he doesn't seem the type to be a fan of. At first glance you'd think he'd mostly read horror, murder mysteries and biographies, but when he said he loved all genres, he evidentially meant _all genres._

Sandy is torn between asking Pitch what he thinks of Harry Potter and inquiring whether or not he has any favourite romance novels. He ends up asking both.

"I don't think there are enough hours left in the day for me to go over Harry Potter, although I will mention that I feel a strong kinship with a certain potions professor. As if that would surprise anyone." He laughs softly into his tea. "As for romance, I am much more drawn to older publications. Modern romance stories don't quite have the same charm about them. If I had to pick a favourite, I suppose I'd choose Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. The main character seems very real to me and she has noticeable, believable faults, something that I find does't happen too often when it comes to romantic literature."

They drink their tea, devour their scones and talk long enough that countless other customers have come and gone and their original barista's shift ends. Sandy's just getting ready to angle their conversation towards poetry when Pitch's phone beeps.

He looks down at the caller ID with raised eyebrows before he brings it up to his ear.

"Hello Jack."

Sandy's hand tightens on his mug.

"What? It can't be that late already." Pitch glances around for a clock and his eyes widen when he notices the position of the hands. "Never mind then. Hm? Yes, this whole time." He pauses for a moment, listening intently, and a content smile breaks over his face which he directs fully at Sandy. "Yes, I've had a very enjoyable time."

Sandy tries not to visibly puff up in pride.

"Alright, I'll be there in a bit. Bye." Pitch sets down his phone and stretches his arms over his head.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Soon?" Pitch repeats in amusement. "We've been talking for hours. _I've_ been talking for hours."

"Exactly, you're on a roll. Why leave now when you're doing so well?"

"Sorry, but duty calls. Jack made me promise him a movie night in exchange for going to the game with me."

"But he was only there for the final quarter." Sandy attempts not to sound petulant, but he's not sure if he succeeds. 

"Well, it's not exactly going to be a chore. Besides, he deserves a bit of a break after the week I put him through." Pitch holds a hand over his mouth to cover his smile. Jack is never going to offer his help again, but he's been very useful this week and Pitch can find it in his heart to indulge him.

"You're sure you're not together?" Sandy asks in a lighthearted, joking manner even though he's dead serious. He can't stop thinking about the way Jack wound an arm around Pitch's shoulders and sent a wink in his direction. Maybe they're on the precipice of a relationship and Pitch hasn't noticed yet.

"I told you before, Jack is just a friend. Going out with him would be like... Like going out with my non-existent younger brother."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Trust me, it would never happen. We'd be a terrible couple anyway, we're much too alike."

That was reassuring.

"Did you need a ride back?"

"No, I could use the walk, and my apartment is only ten minutes away." Pitch rose out of his chair and Sandy did likewise, following the taller man as he made his way outside. "If you like I could bring in those books for you on Monday. If you're still interested in reading them."

"That'd be great."

Pitch smiled softly and waved. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, have a good night." He waved back and stepped into his car, watching Pitch walk around the corner before taking a deep breath.

Okay, so it appeared that he was kind of jealous of a college kid, he could deal with that. Hopefully. Pitch himself had said there was no way anything would happen between them, so he didn't have to worry about it.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and chewed at his lip, pondering. Should he just carry on with Pitch without acknowledging the way he was beginning to feel about the other man, or should he ask him out on an actual date?

His mind wandered to the way Pitch's eyes shone when he talked about his favourite books, the way he smiled when Sandy showed an interest in them.

Well, what harm was there in trying?

x-x-x

"An enjoyable time, huh?" Jack says with a grin as soon as he opens his door to Pitch's knocking. "You were gone for hours, _literal hours_ , when you told me you'd probably be out for less than one. What did you guys talk about?"

Pitch brushes past him and steps into the apartment, a stack of DVDs tucked under his arm. "Books."

"What, that's it?" Jack shuts the door and turns back to him, arms crossed. The look on his face reminds Pitch of the first time he came home late from a date and his parents were waiting for him on the porch expectantly. "There is no way you spent over three hours talking about books."

"Believe it or not, it's the truth. _Some people_ enjoy talking about literature."

"Don't you sass me," Jack attempts to say with a straight face, "I'll find out what went on, I have spies everywhere."

"You mean you're friends with a couple of the workers there."

"That too."

"I'm afraid to disappoint you, but I spent the last three hours talking about books until I was called away, by you, to start our movie night." He moves into the living room and sets the movies down on the coffee table.

Jack lets out an exaggerated sigh and Pitch side eyes him suspiciously.

"Okay, why are you looking at me like I'm a teenaged delinquent?"

"You've been acting strange lately."

"Oh?" Jack smiles crookedly and tilts his head to the side. "How so?"

"You smile at me a lot, like you know something I don't."

"I know a lot of things you don't. All the rules of basketball, for instance."

Pitch snorts and crosses his arms. "Don't try and worm your way out of this. No movies until I get answers as to why you've been acting this way."

"Would you believe me if I said I do it just to irritate you?"

"No."

"Damn." Jack runs a hand through his hair and his smile slowly morphs into a smirk. "Alright, I suppose I'll tell you for the sake of movie night." He takes a deep breath. "It all started on the night you got completely wasted, you told me-"

"I've changed my mind, I don't want to hear this." He's only been drunk a handful of times and he tends to do and say embarrassing things that he thankfully does not remember until people feel the need to remind him. He doesn't care if he's playing right into Jack's hands, he doesn't want to know.

Jack slumps over and pouts theatrically. "But it's such a fun story."

"For you, maybe. Let's get this movie night going."

He perks right back up and makes his way to the coffee table. "Great, what did you bring me?" He picks up the first case, then the second, then the third, while a bemused smile grows on his face. "I didn't even know you owned all of the Harry Potter movies."

"Guard the secret with your life. No one must know." Pitch intones dramatically and Jack snickers.

"Did you want to watch them all? Because if so we are going to end up being awake for a while."

"We already screwed up our sleeping schedules by finishing all our work in one go yesterday, we can just sleep all day tomorrow. Unless you have plans for the rest of your weekend?"

"Dude, I am all for a Harry Potter marathon. You wanna split a pizza?"

"Sure, just order the usual."

"Roger that." Jack begins dialling the nearest delivery place, but pauses half way through. "Hey, you're not going to cry when Snape dies, are you?"

Pitch answers by throwing a pillow at his face.


	10. Chapter 10

When Pitch is the one to seek Sandy out, even if it is only to give him a book, Sandy can't deny he feels a bit of a rush. He runs his hands over the flawless cover and spine, Pitch obviously takes excellent care of his things and that he's trusting Sandy to take care of them is extremely gratifying.

Is it weird that this gives him a tremendous amount of hope?

"Hey," he calls before Pitch can disappear from his office, "do you want to..." He trails off uncertainly. Was it too soon to ask him out? Sure they've technically known each other for a little over a year, but they've only been on friendly, speaking terms for about two weeks. Not to mention that Pitch is not the most social of creatures, he may get a little weirded out if Sandy moves too fast and Sandy _does not want that to happen_. He's never had so much trouble asking someone out before.

"Do I want to what?"

"Join me and the others for lunch." He finishes weakly before he assures himself that he's just waiting for the perfect moment.

"I suppose that would be good practice," Pitch muses aloud before nodding, "alright, I'll head over here once the bell rings. See you then, Sanderson."

"Great, see you."

Lunch turns out to be an only mildly awkward affair. Pitch mostly speaks with him about how sure he is he'll enjoy the book and he does engage in some small talk with Tooth and Nick. Aster, while he's not precisely giving him the cold shoulder, visibly tenses whenever Pitch so much as glances in Tooth's general direction. Pitch notices but he thankfully seems to find Aster's reactions more amusing than insulting. Still, Sandy may have to have a little chat with the art teacher to ensure he doesn't end up scaring Pitch away.

When the end of the day rolls around Sandy wanders over to Pitch's classroom to ensure that yes, he is currently overseeing a detention. He sneaks inside, pulls a chair up to Pitch's desk and cracks open book one. Pitch very briefly looks up from his marking, eyes the book in Sandy's hands and smiles slightly before he goes back to work.

Over half an hour passes in complete silence, except for the occasional rustle of paper or scratch of a pen, and soon the pair of student are primly told that they may leave. They practically sprint out of the room. 

"No running in the halls!" Sandy calls out reflexively before carefully marking his place and turning his attention to Pitch. "I was thinking that- how many comments did you write on that?"

"Hm?" Pitch looks down at the paper in front of him where any previous free space has been overtaken by small red writing. "The perfect amount, I think. Just giving them a bit of a push to try harder next time."

"If I were still in school I'd be terrified to get a paper back like that." He'd probably be too afraid to read the comments, he'd just warily look at the mark before hiding it in a sock drawer or something.

"Really?" Pitch narrows his eyes at his writing and frowns. "I would have loved to get this much feedback from my teachers when I was in high school."

"It's just that it's so _red_ , it makes it look like they've done a lot wrong. Maybe you should buy some blue pens, mix it up a bit."

"Ah, but I am the Detention King," Pitch states dryly, "I rule my classroom with fear, it is not in my nature to mark with blue pens."

"How do you feel about stickers?"

" _Stickers?_ "

"Yeah, a couple golden stars here and there, just so when a student gets a paper like that back they know you're not ticked off at them."

"If they actually read what I wrote then they would already be aware of that," Pitch sighs before brightening up considerably. "How are you liking the book so far?"

"A lot. I'll probably finish it up tonight and move on to the next one tomorrow."

"Good, then I can talk to you about it without having to worry that I'm ruining it for you." Pitch began shuffling the papers on his desk and putting them away, preparing to leave.

"Did you want to go out sometime?" Sandy blurts out, not quite as suave as he was hoping for but at least he managed to ask this time. He's got a whole speech planned in his head in case Pitch is unsure, the highlight of which is something along the lines of: 'I like hanging out with you so even if you don't want to go out please keep being my friend because you're really awesome and if you start ignoring me I'll die a little on the inside.'

"For coffee again?" Pitch asks without even pausing his movements, clearly not aware of Sandy's intent.

"Yeah, if you want. But this time would be..." A date, a date, _a date._ "Would be..."

"Oh, putting our practice to the test. I see."

"Practice?" He repeats with a sputter and Pitch nods to himself absentmindedly.

"We ought to tell Aster that I'm not going to attempt to steal Tooth away from him before we all get together again. Or rather, you tell him because I doubt he'll trust a single word I say."

Oh no. He's trying to ask him out on an actual date and Pitch think's he's trying to get him to come on a group outing. 

"Actually, this time I was thinking maybe-"

"We can hammer out the details later, I really ought to get going."

Sandy sighs, he'll just have to be a lot more clear with his invitation next time. "You know, if you're in such a hurry I could give you a ride."

Pitch pauses abruptly, as if the thought of asking to be dropped off had never occurred to him.

"That would actually be incredibly helpful. You don't mind, do you?"

"If I minded I wouldn't have offered."

"Ah, true enough."

"What's got you in such a rush today anyways?" If it had anything to do with Jack he was probably going to literally turn green with envy.

"A book I'm on the waiting list for is finally available at my library. It feels like I've been waiting for an eternity, so I'm a bit impatient to finally have it in my hands." He flexed his fingers theatrically and Sandy relaxed. Of course it was book related. Everything with Pitch was book related.

"That eager, huh? You seem like the type who'd rather own books than borrow them, if that makes any sense." Sandy stuck close to Pitch's side as they made their way out of the classroom and towards the parking lot.

"You're not wrong. I do love owning things, or at least owning books. Alas," Pitch sighed, "if I were to buy every book I wanted I probably wouldn't have room in my apartment left over for anything else."

"I imagine sleeping on a bed of books would result in a painful crick in the neck. It might give you good dreams though, maybe all the literature would just seep into you as you slept."

"Knowing my luck I'd probably end up having H.P. Lovecraft dreams." Pitch shuddered dramatically and Sandy grinned.

"Maybe if you had enough romance novels it would counter-act the horror." He unlocked his car and they both slipped inside and buckled up.

"That, or I would end up as the main character of some sort of terrifying love story."

"You'd be like the female lead in all those old monster movies who the monster always fell in love with."

Pitch dramatically slumped back in his seat, hands over his face. "It would be like Creature from the Black Lagoon, except with Cthulhu."

Sandy laughed and pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. It was only with Pitch that he could have inane conversations like this. "Alright, I think that's enough talk of dreams for today. Let's put a stop to the madness before it takes us over."

"I couldn't agree more."

They drove to the library in companionable silence and when Pitch stepped out, promising to be just a few minutes, Sandy pulled out his phone to make a few calls. Maybe, if he were dealing with a smaller group and he wasn't worried about Pitch's possible reaction, he might have bribed them to pretend they were sick. To have three out of five people not show up would definitely not look coincidental. Besides, he sort of wanted Pitch to actually know the next time he took him somewhere, just the two of them, that it was a date. As long as he agreed to it.

He called Tooth first and she was more than happy to go out as long as it didn't interrupt her practices. She promised to pass the invitation along to Aster with a giddy voice, which was just as well since there was no way Aster would refuse if Tooth was the one asking him. Then came Nick, who's reaction to the invite was much more interesting.

"You want me to be fifth wheel on double date?" He asked somewhat incredulously before bursting into laugher. "Am I to chaperone you?"

"It's not a double date." How did North come to these (not entirely crazy) conclusions? Sandy quickly cast his eyes to the front door to make sure Pitch was still inside. "It's just a group of friends sitting around and drinking coffee, nothing new or exciting about it."

"But did you want it to be double date?"

Actually he would have preferred a regular date, but that was besides the point. "No."

Nick laughed once more. "It will be like watching Tooth and Aster all over again, but yes, I will come."

"Wait." If Nick was comparing Pitch and himself to Tooth and Aster, who'd circled around each other for a small eternity before they finally began to settled together, then did that mean... "Do you know something I don't?"

"I know a lot of things you do not."

"About Pitch. Do you know something about his, uh, _feelings?_ "

"Only what is obvious to me." Nick responded, joyfully cryptic. Sandy could just imagine the pleased, secretive smile on his face.

"Do you think you could maybe share- hold that thought!" Pitch was out and walking towards the car. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." He hung up and put his phone away just as Pitch opened the passenger side door.

"Were you successful in your quest?" He asked lightly, mind reeling. If he and Pitch were like Tooth and Aster, then did that mean Pitch liked him back and he just hadn't noticed? Or had Nick been comparing them for unknown reasons?

"Very successful." Pitch held a thick tome close to his chest, obviously pleased. "Now I just hope I have the time to read it over the next three weeks."

"I'm sure you'll make time if it's that important. You could temporarily put a stop to writing such in-depth critiques of your student's work."

"Or I could not go out with you guys for coffee."

"Haha. No. I will drag you kicking and screaming if I have to." Sandy said, half serious, as he began pulling away from the library.

"My, how forceful of you." Pitch replied, and was Sandy just imagining that his tone was flirty because Nick had made him hyper-aware, or did Pitch actually sound suggestive? 

They lapsed back into peaceful silence and were just pulling up to Pitch's apartment when he turned to face Sandy, face overly serious.

"It occurs to me that you've saved me a fair amount of time today by driving me around. I believe in situations such as these thanks are required."

"Pitch, I know you're not that socially inept, but if you really want to thank me you could stop referring to me as _Sanderson_. Also, you're welcome."

Pitch smirked. "Never, you will always be Sanderson. Did you want to come up for a sec? I could give you the next book in the series."

"Sure, that'd be great." He attempted not to sound too excited even though he was sure this was a huge step. Who else was ever invited into Pitch's apartment? Other than Jack, he didn't count.

He pulled into the guest parking lot and they made their way inside. Sandy subtly memorized the way to the elevators, the floor Pitch was on and the number of his apartment, just in case he needed it for future reference. 

When Pitch opened up the door and they stepped inside he was struck by the sparseness of the place. There was no artwork on the walls or knick-knacks laying about, just furniture, appliances and a lot of empty space. He guessed the bedroom was a little more personal with at least a bookshelf or two, but he couldn't exactly barge in there to double check.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Ever since I was offered the job at the school." Pitch set the book and his other belongings down on the kitchen table.

Over five years and he hadn't put so much as a poster up. Sandy had only been living at his place for over a year and already there was clutter spilling out from his room into the communal areas.

"I'll go grab that book for you." Pitch made his way down a narrow hall towards a shut door and Sandy followed after him curiously, peering in from beyond the threshold as the other man rummaged around inside.

His bedroom was marginally more lived in than the rest of his apartment, mostly because of the two full bookcases against the farthest wall. His bed was neatly made with dark covers that looks soft enough that he wanted to reach out and run his hands over them.

"Here we are."

Sandy's gaze snapped back to Pitch and he took the proffered book carefully. They stayed as they were for several moments longer and Sandy found himself fidgeting awkwardly.

Should he ask him again now? Or should he wait until they were in a more neutral setting? Maybe he should just retreat and regroup.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, we can figure out the plans for coffee during lunch." Pitch escorted him back to his front door. "Did you need me to walk down with you?"

"No, I'll be fine on my own."

"Very well, enjoy your reading."

"You too."

He made his way back downstairs and towards the guest parking lot. If he happened to pass by Jack on his way and felt a burst of good humour when the boy did a visible double take at the sight of him, well, no one needed to know.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Sandy has his own oblivious points, Pitch continues to be book-obsessed and if North and Jack knew each other in this universe they would probably gossip like a couple of old hens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so close to an actual date guys, I can feel it in my bones.

When Jack passes by the one and only Sanderson Mansnoozie on the way into his building he can't help but do a double take before he books it inside. He opts to run up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator and knocks on Pitch's door loudly and incessantly until the man opens it with an annoyed glare.

"Despite what you may think I am not yet hard of hearing." He snarks but Jack isn't so much listening to him as he is carefully looking him up and down and finding _nothing_ to indicate any adult fun had been going on before he'd arrived.

Okay, so Jack may seem a little overly invested in his next door neighbours' love life, but it was difficult not to be when-

"Jack, are you even listening to me?"

"Not really," he admits with a shrug and Pitch grumbles at him, "I think I passed by that Mansnoozie guy in the parking lot, was he visiting you?"

"Not that it's any of your business-"

Oh, but it is Jack's business, it has been ever since the night Pitch had got drunk, clung to Jack like a koala and refused to stop whining about _Sanderson_ this and _Sanderson_ that. Complaints mixed with the occasional strange, _perhaps not entirely intentional_ , compliment that Jack had been happy to forget about until Pitch actually started hanging out with the guy.

"- but he came up here so that I could lend him a book."

"A book?" He repeats incredulously and Pitch leans heavily against his door frame. 

"Yes, Jack, a book. You may have come across them before during your journey through the educational system. You open them up and there are words inside."

"Yes, that does seem familiar." Jack says dryly before refocussing on the matter at hand. "But seriously, he was only up here for a book?"

Pitch's snide look is slowly replaced by confusion. "Yes, although I don't see why that's important."

If it weren't for Jack's amazing amount of self control he would probably be slamming his head against the wall right now.

"Honestly Jack, I can feel your blood pressure rising from over here. What is going on with you lately? Are your classes stressing you out?"

Either he was wrong about this whole situation, which was entirely possible but bruised his ego too much to even consider, or Pitch was the most passive person on Earth when it came to his love life.

Jack slumped over. He needed a drink, or a hobby. Maybe both.

"I'm fine. Probably just a bit tired from our Harry Potter marathon."

"Oh." Pitch reaches out and touches the back of his hand against Jack's forehead. "You don't feel too warm, but I would suggest doing your homework and going straight to bed just in case. No video games for you tonight."

"Yes, mother." Jack dodges the hand that attempts to swat him and skips over to his own apartment.

If Pitch doesn't actually have feelings for Sanderson and it's all in Jack's head, fine. If he does have feelings and is just choosing to ignore them, that's his choice and Jack's not going to bother him about it because he has more important things to do with his time anyways, like homework. If he's secretly an emotionless robot sent from the future to befriend Jack, integrate himself into his life and save him from an assassination attempt, all the more power to him.

There's still a small part of him that thinks it would be nice for Pitch to go out, at least once. He's always wanted to give someone the shovel talk. But if Pitch decides to never date anyone for the rest of his life, he'll live.

Still, he'd been so sure that the drunken rambling had meant something.

x-x-x

It's not that Sandy's never had trouble asking someone out before; he's not exactly the tall, dark and handsome type people go for. He's shorter than average, isn't exactly in great shape and is more cute than gorgeous. He's been rejected before and has lived to tell the tale but he really, _really_ hopes that Pitch will give him a chance once he manages to ask him out again.

He has to gather up his courage first though, which he thinks may require a talk with a certain someone who thankfully lives nearby.

If Nick is at all surprised that Sandy shows up on his doorstep not even half an hour after talking to him on the phone he doesn't let it show, just opens the door wider for Sandy to step in. The smile on his face is wide and practically brimming with unspoken observations.

"You know why I'm here?" He asks just to be certain and Nick nods, grin stretching further across his face.

"Was not very hard to figure out."

"Good." He crosses his arms and tries his very best to look like someone who really ought to be given answers. "Spill."

"I have nothing concrete if that is what you want, only a hunch. But," he gestures with one hand dramatically, "there are a number of things, small things, that I cannot help but notice."

"And those things are?"

Nick sighs as though he is dealing with a particularly difficult student and Sandy begins to tap his foot loudly.

"Is interesting, is it not, that Pitch was able to warm up to you so quickly?"

"I guess."

"It is not like no one attempted to befriend him before you. Over course of two weeks you become closer to him than others have during the five years he's been here. What do you think that means?"

"He likes my attitude and finds me less annoying because of it?"

Nick presses a hand against his face and murmurs something in Russian. Sandy wonders if he should feel insulted.

"Just ask him out Sandy, I have good feeling about the pair of you."

Clearly this is as much as Nick is going to say on the matter. He's probably being vague on purpose just to mess with him, but he has at least given Sandy a few things to ponder over.

"Thanks for the a advice Nick, I'd better get going."

He has a book to finish.

x-x-x

Their lunch break the following day is even less awkward than the one before. Aster isn't quite as defensive, probably because Tooth is lavishing him with attention, and Pitch once again spends most of his time talking to Sandy about book one of the Artemis Fowl series. It is decided that, since Tooth has practices to oversee on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they'll go out for coffee on Wednesday and everything is settled without a fuss.

Now if only Nick would stop sending all-knowing looks to him and Pitch, everything would be right as rain.

The rest of the day passes without a hitch and Sandy finds himself entertaining the idea of sending Pitch anonymous letters to test the waters. He gets so far as to wondering what Pitch's reaction to receiving a bouquet of roses from a _secret admirer_ would be, probably hilarious and awkward, before his mind drifts over the terrifying thought that if he did do anything like that there is still a small chance that Pitch might think it was Jack. He decides on something more personal, less cheesy and definitely not anonymous.

He thinks, or at least hopes, Pitch will get a kick out of the small gift he buys for him.

Wednesday dawns, dark and dreary. Grey storm clouds hover over the school for hours before they finally let down an seemingly unending torrent of rain. Thunder rumbles in the distance and students are practically on the edge of their seats, one collective thought running through their minds.

_Let the power go out._

Wednesdays are always bad concentration days, as though the middle of the work week isn't as important as the other days. Pitch's first two classes were distracted enough by the clouds that now, with an actual storm being added into the equation, Pitch doubts that his students will get anything done even if he gave them a work period.

Normally this sort of inattentive behaviour would annoy him, but even he feels listless due to the weather. Waiting to see whether or not the lights will flicker.

When third period starts with half of his grade eleven students staring out the windows he decides he may as well roll with the punches.

This morning when he'd seen the gloomy clouds roll in he'd been torn between bringing in a Stephen King or Dean Koontz novel. It's probably for the best that he didn't bring in Stephen King, he's not sure how he'd feel reading _It_ to a group of high school kids.

_The Taking_ isn't quite as intense, and if the book itself happens to start off with an oddly sudden and intense rain storm, so much the better.

He flicks off the lights, which snaps all of the attention in the room onto him, and perches on the edge of his desk as he beings to read aloud. 

Pitch has always been good at this sort of thing. His voice is smooth, steady, and he knows which words to accentuate, how to _say_ them to really bring the story to life. It helps that the suspenseful setting is mirrored by their own surroundings.

He doesn't think he's ever had a class of grade elevens listen to him so raptly before. To be honest he's kind of flattered.

When the bell signalling the end of third period rings and several students approach him with questions about the author he's only too happy to answer them. Then his grade twelves come in and the cycle beings anew.


	12. Chapter 12

He's in an excellent mood when Sandy swings by his classroom to collect him at the end of the day, something that the other man easily notices and is understandably curious about. When he briefly skims over how he spent the final two periods as they step out of the classroom Sandy grins widely.

"Lucky ducks. I bet they were all enraptured by the sound of your voice."

"I wouldn't say enraptured, but they were certainly paying more attention than usual." It had been nothing short of miraculous. No talking, no texting, no daydreaming. "Maybe instead of giving them time to read in class I'll read aloud to them from now on." It's not like he minded, and if it got all of his students to pay attention then he was more than willing to go through with it.

"Really? I may have to sneak in every once in a while to listen."

"I talk with you every day Sanderson, it's not that different."

"Being spoken to is nothing like being read to! I bet your voice goes through all these dramatic changes that make everything seem really interesting. One of my old English teachers would read Shakespeare to us in the most monotonous voice you could imagine, it was not fun."

Pitch chuckled as they exited the school and opened up his umbrella to fend off the rain that had slowed down to a melancholy drizzle.

"Are we meeting them there?"

"Yeah, I don't see Nick's truck so they've probably already left." He unlocked his car and they slid inside, Pitch shaking off his umbrella excessively before shutting the door. Then they made their way to the coffee place by his apartment where, as expected, the other three had claimed a table and were waiting for them to arrive.

It was nice, hanging out like this without having to constantly glance at a clock to make sure they wouldn't be late for their own duties. Pitch was becoming slightly more relaxed, and more like himself, with each instance where he spent a fair amount of time in their combined presence and he was finally allowing himself to be drawn into conversations by people other than Sandy. To be fair he still talked with Sandy the most but, well, he wasn't going to complain about being his favourite.

Currently Pitch was going into more detail about how his class reading had gone and Sandy watched fondly as he couldn't seem to stop talking about how well behaved his students had been. He shut his eyes for just a few moments, just to listen to the sound of his voice without any visual information to distract him, and when he opened them again Nick was sending what was possibly the most smug look ever in his direction. He very maturely ignored the other man and turned his attention to watch as Pitch began speaking with his hands.

"It's always nice when the kids have an interest in what you're teaching." Tooth nodded sagely. "I feel your pain. Geography's not the most popular subject, and it's one of the courses required to graduate."

"I can't even imagine what students get up to during your class when they should be paying attention. How do you deal with them? I don't imagine you can give out detentions often since you have practices and games to attend to after class."

"Well, thankfully I'm also a gym teacher," Tooth leaned forward, clasped her hands together and grinned, "they know if they don't behave, I'll make them do boards up and down the hallway."

Pitch looked around with raised eyebrows as a collective, pained groan rose up from the group. 

"And boards are?"

"There's a plank of wood wrapped in a towel and they have to push it along with their hands as fast as they can. It sort of looks like an ancient, terrible way to clean floors." She sipped at her tea in an overly elegant manner before sending Pitch a conspiring look. "After the first couple of days when the late comers have to go through that, most of the students know better than to break any of my rules."

"I commend your methods," Pitch toasted her with a wry smile and Tooth made a lazy salute in return.

"Sometimes tough love is the way to go."

"Alright," Aster cut in, "no more talk about work, the pair of you'll give me hives."

Tooth chuckled and leaned a little so that their shoulders were brushing. "Sorry Aster. Okay, we have officially crossed into 'anything but school' time. What else is there to talk about?"

Silence greeted the question and it wasn't long before they were all laughing under their breath.

Nick was the first to recover, tapping his fingers against the table as he grinned at the couple, _the official couple_ , seated to one side of him.

"So Toothy, tell me, how is love life?"

Both Tooth and Aster blushed, though Aster's was much darker.

"It's going very well, thank you. Though it took him a while to clue in enough to ask me out." She sent a sly look to the man beside her.

"Oi! Y'could have been the one to ask me if I was taking too long." Aster countered good-naturedly and Tooth shrugged.

"Sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, even if it means waiting for the guy you like to catch a clue." She pressed a quick kiss to Aster's cheek and he once again turned red. 

"How's everyone else; any romantic prospects on the horizon?"

"Same as always," Nick answered with a laugh.

"Unlikely," Pitch said evenly.

Sandy tried to keep himself from flushing and looked down.

"Sandy?" Tooth leaned in, growing more curious by the second. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

"No, there's nothing going on," yet, "I'm afraid it's the same it has been for the past little while."

If Nick kept sending looks like that his way, someone was eventually going to notice and figure things out.

Tooth pouted and looked thoroughly unconvinced, but thankfully Aster turned the conversation to the much less personal topic of the weather.

It was almost another hour before they spilt up, Tooth and Aster going with Nick and Pitch going with Sandy. The rain had finally stopped sometime during their ongoing conversations and the sky was just beginning to clear, moon and starlight reflecting off the multiple, large puddles strewn about the ground. Sandy drives Pitch home in silence, heart beating as though he'd just run up ten flights of stairs.

He'd been too embarrassed, too scared that someone else would put two and two together, to look at Pitch when Tooth had asked everyone about their love lives. Now he's sort of regretting it.

Had Pitch looked at all bothered when he'd proclaimed it unlikely for him to enter into a relationship? What was his expression like when Tooth had been questioning him and he'd denied anything was going on?

Unconcerned? Relieved?

Well, he supposed it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Sandy was going to ask again no matter what Pitch's expressions had been, it just would have been nice to get a feel for what sort of reaction he might get.

He pulled up to Pitch's apartment building and reached into the back seat.

"Don't leave just yet. I've got something for you." He handed it over with a flourish.

"A card?"

"Not a card, I just needed to put it in an envelope. Go on, open it."

Pitch carefully tore the envelope and, as Sandy had hoped, let out a disbelieving laugh when he pulled out the contents.

Dozens of sheets of golden star stickers.

"I can't believe you actually bought me stickers."

"Stickers are great! It will put your student at ease. When they see these on their papers, they'll know that even though you don't write it out, you're saying-"

"You tried." Pitch grinned widely at the sheets in his hands. He was even more amused than Sandy had thought he would be.

"Exactly!"

"Thank you, Sanderson, they're very thoughtful."

"You'll actually use them, right?"

"Well, since you went out of your way to get them for me I suppose I'll have to." Pitch's grin turned into something smaller, more genuine. "Thanks again." He moved to get out of the car.

"Hey," Sandy interrupted before he could so much as unbuckle himself, "this may seem a little fast and I totally understand if you don't want to, but I was hoping that we could go out sometime. Together. On a date." He winced at his awkward delivery and almost couldn't stand to watch Pitch's reaction.

Then something unexpected happened.

A flush slowly worked it's way up the column of Pitch's neck, settling heavy in his cheeks before stretching all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"A date?"

"Yeah. We could just do something simple; like watch a movie, go for coffee again, or maybe-"

"I'd like that."

Sandy stopped and stared. "You would?" This was going a lot easier than he'd expected.

"Yes."

"Really?" He asked, just to be absolutely sure.

Pitch rolled his eyes, but the redness in his face detracted from the movement.

"Honestly Sanderson, one would think you were hard of hearing." He unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door, throwing a small smile over his shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Sandy echoed back faintly, watching with unconcealed wonder as Pitch made his way inside.

A date. He'd agreed to a date. He allowed himself a small, victorious fist pump before he began driving home, whistling cheerily.

Meanwhile in a mimicry of what had occurred on Monday Pitch was loudly knocking at Jack's door until the young man opened up with an unimpressed look.

"I'm not deaf you know. What's got you so worked up?"

"A date," Pitch practically wheezed, "I have a date."


	13. Chapter 13

Jack stepped aside and Pitch all but stumbled in, graceless as a new-born fawn, and dropped his things on the coffee table.

"So, does this situation call for the emergency tequila or the celebratory vodka?" Jack attempted to keep a straight face without much luck, especially when Pitch slowly turned to look at him with realization dawning in his eyes.

" _You._ " He lashed out to point a finger right at Jack's chest.

"Me?" He batted his eyelashes in faux innocence and Pitch's eyes narrowed.

"This is why you've been acting so weird lately, you knew something like this was going to happen. How did you _know_?"

Jack shrugged. "I tried to tell you before but you didn't want me to."

Pitch's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Jack patiently waited for him to connect the dots.

"You told me I only whined about him!"

"Oh trust me, there was a lot of whining going on." Jack tried not to smile too widely, but the bewildered look on Pitch's face was making it incredibly difficult. This was fun. "You whined about how he was getting along so well with all of the teachers, how all the students seemed to like him, how life was unfair," he leaned in and loosely wrapped an arm around Pitch's shoulders, "and most memorably, you whined about the colour of his eyes."

" _I did not._ "

"You did too! Five minutes may not seem like a long time, but when you spend it hearing about the same thing over and over again it's like an eternity. Seriously Pitch, people with vocabularies like yours shouldn't be allowed to wax on poetically about things."

Pitch groaned and buried his face in his hands. Jack hadn't even mentioned the _incredibly weird_ way Pitch had gone on about Sandy's height and how he sometimes wanted to _carry the other man around in his pocket_. Some things were better left unsaid.

"I'm never drinking again."

"Look at you, making good life choices." Jack sniffed dramatically and mimed wiping a tear from his eye. "You grew up so fast."

Pitch spread open his fingers to glare through them. "I will end you, Jack."

"At least I'd die happy because I was _right_! I was so right! I fucking knew it, it's like I have psychic powers."

"I'm sure your mother would be so proud." Pitch murmured sarcastically as he let his hands fall away. He looked less like he was on the verge of a panic attack and more like his usual self. Mission accomplished.

"Alright, we done with the drama now?"

Pitch relaxed his shoulders, any last traces of tension draining away. "Yes, I believe I've calmed down."

"Good, now we can finally talk like a pair of responsible adults. Or well, you know, a responsible adult and a spastic-" Pitch clasped a hand over his mouth and frowned with the intensity of a dozen disappointed teachers who knew you could have done better. It was worse than any stare his mother had ever pinned on him. He shrugged away Pitch's hand and nodded to himself; right, serious conversation ahead.

Pitch would have known he'd be in for some good natured heckling when he braved Jack's apartment and it was obvious by the way he'd shown up that something wasn't sitting well with him. There were probably dozens of small, seemingly insignificant things that could have set Pitch off enough that he'd started to panic even after initially accepting the invitation to go out, but that was just how Pitch was. He got worked up about little things and stuff just snowballed from there.

Jack stepped over to his living room couch and sat down, waiting.

"Well, go on."

Pitch slumped down next to him and stared up, putting his thoughts in order.

"It's been a while since I've gone out with someone," he began, not tearing his eyes from the ceiling, "I guess I just started thinking about how I wouldn't have time for this sort of thing and that just lead to a variety of other concerns leaping out to me at the same time." He turned to Jack, smiling wryly. "I think I may have anxiety issues."

Jack opened his mouth to respond and snapped it shut almost immediately. Serious conversation, right.

"But you do actually want to go out with him, right?" He watched with unabashed fascination as Pitch went red.

"I do."

"And I'm just going out on a limb here and assume that you were the ask-ee?" Pitch nodded. "So you know he likes you too."

"Obviously."

"Then what else is bothering you?"

Pitch went even redder.

"I've never gone out with another man before."

For a single, _terrifying_ moment Jack was certain that Pitch was going to ask him to explain how two males were intimate with each other. He was in no way prepared for this.

"I've had crushes on a few, there's a certain... _Type_ that I've always been attracted to regardless of gender."

Jack would make a wild guess that his 'type' was compromised of people who were a bit on the short side.

"But I've only ever had relationships with women."

"Okay, so what's got you the most worried about that, then?" If it were anyone else Jack might assume they were anxious about what their peers would think about them, but Pitch didn't really care much about the opinions of others when it came to his personal life.

"I'm not sure." Pitch frowned and crossed his arms. "I feel like this should be a big deal, even though it's really not, so I'm probably just making myself think it's a lot more important than it is."

"Well, you are very neurotic."

"Thank you for your gracious input."

"No problem."

They sat in silence for a while, Jack twiddling his thumbs and Pitch turning the envelope of stickers around in his hands, but Jack could only stay quiet for so long.

"Pitch," he started seriously, "I swear on my four hundred dollars worth of textbooks that if anyone ever hurts you, I will buy a shovel with their name on it."

There, he'd always wanted to say something like that.

Pitch blinked at him. "You wouldn't need to go that far. I'd miss him if he were gone, he makes my days far less terrible."

"I thought _I_ made your days less terrible." Jack huffed in mock hurt.

"It's a joint effort."

"Alright, as long as you don't forget about me, you have my permission to go out with this man of yours."

"How kind of you."

"Just remember. Stay safe, use condoms."

The punch to his shoulder was totally worth the look on Pitch's face.

x-x-x

"So," Sandy leaned against Pitch's desk and positively beamed at him, "Got any idea of what you'd like to do for our date?"

"Well," considering Jack had been brimming with ideas and was physically unable to _shut up about them_ , although most were too juvenile to even consider. Really, did Pitch look like someone who would go to a glow in the dark mini-put place? "A few."

"Excellent!" Sandy bent in a little closer and his grin somehow managed to widen. "I'd use this opportunity to express my joy at not having dreamt your acceptance, but I'm guessing that would be a little too over the top for you."

Pitch snorted. "If you planned on turning my life into a dramatic, purple prose romance novel then we'd have to put a stop to this before it had even begun."

"That's what I figured." Sandy glanced up at the clock, they still had a couple minutes before the earliest students showed up for class. "So, what were you thinking?"

"Just something simple, maybe watch a movie."

"At a theatre?"

Pitch shook his head. "I don't think anything is out right now that I'd like. We could watch something at my place, but I'll warn you in advance that if we do that then Jack will more than likely pop up to annoy us. He'll pick the lock to my apartment if he has to."

Sandy chuckled lightly. "So, my place then?"

"I think that would be for the best." Pitch leant back into his seat as the first student walked into class. "We can figure out the details during lunch."

"Great, see you then." Sandy strode away with a spring in his step.

He was going to have to do some cleaning, but it would be worth it. Pitch and him alone at his place, snuggling together on a couch in a dark room, watching a movie and sharing a bowl of popcorn between them, their hands occasionally brushing. Be still his heart.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than usual. Work's been hectic because of the March Break.

All during lunch break Nick beams at them like he's an actual ray of sunshine. Even Tooth and Aster, wrapped up in each other as they are, look as though they are starting to clue in. Tooth gives them each a brief, knowing smile before she turns to Aster and asks his opinions on double dates and Nick positively _howls_ at the art teacher's mortified look.

It's a little hard to make plans when Nick absolutely refuses to stop staring at them, but eventually they decide to have their date Saturday evening. Friday would have been ideal, but according to Pitch:

"If Jack thinks I'm going to start forgetting about him now that you're around, he'll probably come after you with a hatchet."

He said it so matter-of-factly that Sandy had almost worried there would be some sort of outrageous duel between a college kid and himself for Pitch's attention. Then he remembered Pitch's life was not and would never be a dramatic, purple prose romance novel. Thank his lucky stars.

The rest of the day seems to pass by in a blur and soon enough he's making his way down towards Pitch's classroom and offering him a ride home.

"I suppose I do like you more than I like walking." Is what Pitch says in response after much mock deliberation.

"I'm touched, really," Sandy shoots back with a grin.

The drive to Pitch's apartment is mostly silent, both just enjoying being together and not watched like a hawk. When Sandy pulls up to the front of the building Pitch turns to him, hesitates, then quickly and clumsily presses a kiss to the other man's cheek.

"Thanks for the ride."

He's out the door before Sandy can even think to say 'you're welcome.'

Needless to say he's on cloud nine for the rest of the day, the rest of the week, even. He and Pitch get in the habit of holding hands under the table at lunch, Nick must know because he won't stop smiling at them, and he does a little cleaning every day in eager preparation. He's incredibly happy and nothing can bring him down.

Not even being on the receiving end of a shovel talk.

x-x-x

When Jack sees a familiar figure sitting alone in the coffee shop by his apartment, he takes it as a divine signal. 

He keeps a close eye on Sandy, who's face is buried in one of Pitch's books, as he orders himself a coffee. Once his order is up he meanders over to the small table he's sitting at and lightly coughs into his fist.

Sandy pulls his attention away from the book and blinks up at him in startled recognition.

Good, Jack loves when the element of surprise is on his side.

"Hi, I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm-"

"Jack, Pitch's friend."

"Mmmhmm." Jack smoothly takes the seat across from him, sets down his coffee and rests his chin on his hands. "And you're Sanderson, Pitch's _friend_."

Sandy nods and his eyes sparkle with good humour and, okay, Jack can kind of see why Pitch went on about them for five minutes straight but that's beside the point.

"Look," he begins frankly, "you seem like an okay guy. Pitch likes you even though he hates most people and obviously I trust his judgment, so I'll keep this quick."

The other man stares at him, eyebrows raising steadily.

"Are you going to give me the shovel talk?"

"Aw, you ruined the surprise," Jack laments. Maybe he should have jumped right into it instead of giving him time to think about why he'd approached him in the first place.

"It was supposed to be a surprise?"

He sounds amused. He should not sound amused.

"Yeah, okay, _shhhh_." Jack closes his eyes to focus and when he opens them again he makes sure to keep his face completely expressionless. 

Sandy folds his hands together and cocks his head to the side curiously. He looks so genuinely interested that Jack doesn't know if he sees the gravity of the situation, if he's being pandered to, or if he's being made fun of.

Whatever, at least he's listening.

"As Pitch's best friend it falls to me to inform you that I will personally destroy you if you break his heart. I will go to a gardening centre and buy a shovel just so that I can bury you with it."

Sandy nods in apparent understanding. "Duly noted. Anything else?"

"If you two ever decide to have sex, please do so at an undisclosed location where there is absolutely no chance I will overhear."

Sandy goes red, which is a lot more interesting than his reaction to death threats. 

Jack leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Seriously, as long as I'm not around to possible hear or see things that I will never be able to un-hear or see you have my permission to go to town on each other. Pitch might even mellow out a bit."

Sandy opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out.

This is _fun_.

"I know your big date is coming up so during the time you guys are _alone_ together if you wanna really show off and bring attention to the fact that you guys have a height difference, that may or may not drive Pitch crazy." He slurps his coffee loudly. "Go wild, experiment, try new things, don't forget protection." He gets out of his chair feeling incredibly proud of himself.

"See you later Sandy."

Sandy waves mutely and Jack turns away with a chuckle.

He may not be good at threats, but embarrassing people into speechlessness was a handy skill to have.

x-x-x

Pitch wearily glances down at the papers in front of him, hardly able to concentrate on his marking. It's Friday night, less than 24 hours until his first date in who knew how long. He wasn't nervous anymore; he liked Sandy, Sandy liked him, everything was fine and dandy, but the anticipation was making it difficult to focus.

It would be easier once Jack came from from his apparently direly needed coffee break. They could snark at each other and Pitch would momentarily be able to stop counting down the hours.

He looks up at the clock and frowns. Jack was taking longer than usual.

It feels as though it takes an eternity to finish marking one essay, he isn't used to time moving so _slowly_. He slumps over his table and blearily looks over his countless notes and comments.

Jack strolls into the apartment whistling cheerily, although he abruptly stops when he sees Pitch's defeated posture. 

"Hey, you alright?" He drops the key Pitch leant him on the table and hovers around the older man's shoulders like a mother hen.

"If you got a paper like this back would you read all the comments?"

Jack settles beside him and furrows his eyebrows at the questions. "I would nowadays, I don't know if I'd have the courage for that sort of thing in high school."

Pitch snorts. "I'll be right back."

He makes his way to his bedroom and opens up the drawer of the bedside table, reaching in and pulling out a sheet of stickers. He returns to the living room and after he presses a single golden star in the top right corner of the paper he turns to Jack expectantly.

"What about now?"

"Well," Jack purses his lips together in an obvious effort not to smile, "the massive amount of text says 'you have a lot to work on, loser' but the gold star says 'you tried'. Where did you even get these from? I've never seen you use stickers before."

"Sanderson gave them to me."

Jack dissolves into a fit of laughter.

"If you could focus on the problem at hand for two seconds, Jack."

"Right, sorry." Jack wipes tears of mirth from his eyes. "I guess the sticker helps a bit, maybe you could get happy face ones? Oh! In elementary school my teachers had text blurb ones with stuff like 'nice try' and 'good job'."

"Ah, I'll see if I can find some like that then." Pitch nods to himself. He'll have to use some of the ones Sandy gave him tonight, but he's still got several sheets tucked away in his bedside table for sentimental reasons.

"Alright, coffee break's over, back to work."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planning a smaller follow up for this (for which I may actually once again attempt to write smut), but for now this is the end. Hopefully it'll just take a week or two to get the epilogue/sequel/thing posted. :)

At 6:15 sharp on Saturday evening Sandy pulls up to Pitch's apartment to find the other man already waiting outside. Pitch slips in beside him and sends and sends an anxious smile his way before rhythmically tapping at the pile of DVDs on his lap.

"I wasn't sure what sort of films you like or own, so I brought along a bit of everything."

"I can see that." Sandy smiles wryly and he starts driving towards his own home.

He lives in a split-level house, only big enough for one or two people. Upstairs is the kitchen, dining room, bedroom and bathroom while downstairs is the living room, laundry room and a very small home office that he mostly uses for storage. When he first steps inside Pitch casts his gaze around what he can see of the upper level.

Sandy tries not to noticeably hold his breath, anxious for approval. 

"You have a very beautiful home." Pitch finally decrees and Sandy feels like he could _glow_ , he's so happy.

"Thank you, I put a lot of work into it to make it my own." Every piece of art, every paint colour, every swath of fabric had been chosen by himself. The result wasn't as streamlined and modern as his parents had wanted, but it suited him.

"It's very you."

"Thanks. My entertainment centre is on the lower level if you'd like to rummage through my shelves to see if I have anything you'd like to watch. I'll make us some popcorn."

Pitch nodded and drifted downstairs while Sandy leapt up to his kitchen, setting up his microwave before pulling out two tall glasses, ice and a bottle of cola.

He felt... Fluttery, excited, like he was going to vibrate right out of his skin. He hadn't been so eager for a first date to go well in a long time. He wanted everything to be perfect.

He padded downstairs to set down their drinks and couldn't help but smile at the way Pitch was slowly looking over each and every title of every movie he owned.

"See anything that catches your fancy?"

"A couple things- oh, I've just started reading the books for this!" Pitch excitedly pulled out the first season of Game of Thrones. "I don't really keep up with television shows but I've heard great things about this series."

"Would you like to watch that instead?"

"Could we?" Pitch held the box-set against his chest, cradling it like one would an infant. Sandy had to look away before he could burst into laughter.

"Of course we could." A faint chime from upstairs alerted him that the microwave was done. "I'll get the popcorn and you can get the first disk set up."

He made his way back to the kitchen and emptied the bag of popcorn into a large bowl before returning to Pitch and flicking the lights off.

They settled down on the couch, close enough that their thighs pressed against each other. Low light, Pitch within grabbing distance and no one else around? This sounded like a recipe for one hell of a make out session. Of course Pitch already seemed enraptured with the images flickering over the screen and probably wouldn't appreciate Sandy stealing his attention away.

Oh well, he could wait. Patience was a virtue that he had in spades and if he waited long enough maybe Pitch would make the first move, like when he'd kissed him in the car.

His eyes shuttered as he thought about how that kiss would go. Pitch was the type to get skittish over small things so he'd probably just rush into it before he had the chance to psych himself out and would be unsure how to proceed. That was okay though, Sandy could take the lead from there, he'd-

A beheading brought his attention back to the screen and he shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. That was enough of that for tonight, if something was meant to happen it would happen. For now he tucked himself against Pitch's side and let himself become engulfed in the story playing out before them.

Sometime during the second episode Pitch's arm ends up winding itself around Sandy's shoulders, by the third their sides are pressed completely together, and half way through the forth Pitch leans his head against Sandy's. All this contact is making it really hard to focus on the show. He wonders if Pitch is doing this on purpose. 

Before the fifth episode can start Pitch pauses the DVD and removes himself from Sandy's side in order to stand up and stretch out his arms. He then stumbles over to the wall and feels around for the light switch, Sandy hisses dramatically when they turn on.

"The light, it burns."

"Don't be silly, besides I need to stretch my legs and I don't want to trip over anything." Pitch circles around the room, occasionally stretching his arms and leaning back just enough that his shirt raises past the waistline of his pants.

Sandy stays put, perfectly content with watching.

"You know, I saw Jack the other day."

"Really?"

"Mmm hmm." Sandy makes a show of idly examining his fingernails before his gaze casually flicks upwards. "He gave me the shovel talk."

Pitch turns to him abruptly, face a mix of amusement and bewilderment.

"He _didn't._ "

"He did. Or at least tried to, he's not the most intimidating person I've come across."

"I should hope not." Pitch flicks the lights back off and comes to stand beside the couch, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin. "I am much more capable of striking fear into the hearts of men."

"Ah, but I know under your cool exterior you're just a big softie."

Pitch snorted but was unable to keep his lips from quirking upwards. "The more time I spend with you the more my reputation is ruined." He uncrossed his arms to reach down and ruffle Sandy's hair. "But I suppose that's a price I'm willing to pay."

"I feel so flattered."

Pitch laughed and leaned down, looming over Sandy like a giant.

"You should be. Once I start giving papers with stickers back I bet students will stop fleeing from me in the halls and cowering in my class." He pressed their foreheads together.

"They may even actually read over what they can improve now." Sandy added weakly, hardly able to think in such close proximity. Pitch sure did like to tower over him, maybe Jack hadn't been too far off with his height difference theory.

Well, only one thing for him to do now. If Pitch had been wearing a tie he would have pulled him down with that, what a shame, but as it was he fisted his hands in Pitch's shirt, tugged him down and pressed up against his mouth.

Pitch flailed a bit at first, hands waving about to counterbalance himself before settling on Sandy's shoulders. Once there was no danger of him falling over he melted into the kiss, slowly lowering himself into a more comfortable position.

Sandy pulled away and grinned at the sight before him. He wished he had a camera in order to preserve Pitch's dreamy expression for years to come. He'd just have to commit it to memory or, better yet, put that expression on his face again.

"Before we start episode five; you weren't given a certain time you need to be back by, were you? If I take you home past midnight will Jack be waiting for us with a shotgun?"

Pitch blinked, eyes slowly going back into focus. "Unlikely."

"Oh, good." Sandy patted the place beside him and Pitch dutifully took his spot once more. "We've still got over half the season to get through, so either we could finish it next time," and there was definitely going to be a next time, he just _knew_ it, "or we could go through it all tonight."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to stay up for that long."

"If you get tired you could just stay over and we'll finish it in the morning. This couch pulls out," he adds quickly when Pitch starts giving him a devious look, "I'll grab you some extra pillows and blankets and I'll be quiet as a mouse, you won't even know I'm upstairs."

"Well, I suppose that isn't too untoward of you." Pitch leant heavily against him. "I may end up falling asleep on you though, you're surprisingly comfortable."

"How easily do you wake up? Because if you fall asleep and trap me underneath you I want to know how much effort I should put into escaping before I just give up."

Pitch huffed into Sandy's hair. "I wake up easily, and I'm sure you wouldn't be _trapped_ underneath me."

"Only time will tell." Sandy replied with a grin as he pressed play and wrapped an arm around Pitch's lower back.

This may not have been the most traditionally romantic first date, but it had gone off without a hitch. He liked Pitch, Pitch liked him, Pitch made him happy and he was sure that, despite all the snark, he made Pitch happy. Everything was right in the world.

He gripped Pitch a little tighter and Pitch nestled closer to him in response.

They were going to be great together.


End file.
